


How Far Out Does The Indigo Go?

by ungodlyhour



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Tension, i dont know if im tagging this right but its ok, light angst? i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 18:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20970701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ungodlyhour/pseuds/ungodlyhour
Summary: A lot of things come with suddenly deciding to live with your best friend. A lot more than Wooseok could’ve imagined.Combine that entire situation with the said best friend being Cho Seungyoun, who somehow always manages to take things too far—there’s no better recipe for a disaster.





	How Far Out Does The Indigo Go?

**Author's Note:**

> this is. super self indulgent of me since im a sucker for childhood friends + friends with benefits but i hope its okay and someone enjoys it!!

A lot of things come with suddenly deciding to live with your best friend. A lot more than Wooseok could’ve imagined.

Combine that entire situation with the said best friend being _ Cho Seungyoun_, who somehow always manages to take things too far—there’s no better recipe for a disaster.

It happens on a hot Friday night. Wooseok comes home extremely stressed and warm, already beginning to pull his shirt off before he even sticks his keys in the door. As soon as he gets inside and closes the door behind him, his eyes flutter shut involuntarily, back sliding down the cold surface of the door to dramatically plod his butt onto the floor.

He hears Seungyoun’s voice before he sees him, not even taking a glance into the room before his eyes had closed. “Bad day?”

Wooseok nods his head, though it’s a little uncomfortable against the door. “Don’t wanna talk about it. Just wanna sleep, but I have _ more shit to do._”

When he finally opens his eyes, he sees Seungyoun sitting at the table clad in only shorts that aren’t boxers yet are somehow _ shorter _than his boxers (Wooseok has told him how ridiculous they look multiple times), exposed legs pulled up onto the chair as he munches on some cereal. The look on Wooseok’s face must’ve been pitiful, because he leaves the bowl of cereal entirely and strides over to where Wooseok is sitting.

He sits in front of him on the floor. It’s a simple gesture, but Wooseok appreciates it probably more than he should—Seungyoun shows his care for people in little ways most people wouldn’t catch. Knowing him, he probably thought Wooseok would laugh, and he does, even if it comes out in more of a short huff through his nose rather than a laugh. It’s the best he can manage in his current fatigue-induced haze.

The way Seungyoun is sitting, legs crossed with a goofy smile on his face, reminds him of when they were kids, sitting cross-legged in front of a teacher reading a story of a Caterpillar with superpowers, worrying about what snack their parents would bring when they picked them up instead of the future of their students that practically lies in their hands. The reminder of simpler times comforts him a little, his tense shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Is it a lot? I can do it for you.”

“You say that every time I complain about work, you know I’m never going to let you, Youn.” Wooseok says, giving him a disapproving look.

Seungyoun pouts. “Then let me do _ something _ for you,” Wooseok stares at him blankly, too tired to guess what Seungyoun is thinking. “It’s the weekend. You can do it tomorrow.”

“I need to get it out of the way,” Wooseok says with a sigh, standing up to pull his tie off completely and unbutton his shirt. “God, I’m so tired, though.”

Seungyoun looks even more innocent from this angle, like he has no care in the world. Though Seungyoun’s job as a first grade music teacher in high school is stressful too, Wooseok envies him for making that decision and not Wooseok’s own decision to become a third grade history teacher.

Wooseok winces as he attempts to release more tension from his shoulders, and it makes Seungyoun perk up.

“If you’re going to be stubborn, then let me give you a massage while you work.”

Wooseok considers it. Almost moans at the thought of a good massage to fix his aching shoulders and back. “I don’t trust you to give me a good massage. You’re too violent.”

“What do you mean?” Seungyoun scoffs. “You’ve literally heard Hangyul praise my massages before.”

“And I don’t trust Hangyul either,” Wooseok retorts, more out of pride than anything. Truthfully, the idea’s sounding more and more enticing by the second. “But my shoulders _ do _ really hurt…”

Seungyoun stands up with a triumphant clap of his hands. “Get comfy, then. I’ll get my hands ready.”

Wooseok settles in front of the couch, resting his work on his lap. It’s not the most comfortable way to work, but it’ll get the job done. He doesn’t bother putting his shirt back on or switching to another shirt—if Seungyoun’s suddenly going to offer to give him a massage, Wooseok is going to make the most out of it and have it be as pleasurable as possible.

“If I fall asleep, you have to wake me up.”

“Yes sir.” Seungyoun responds, following in Wooseok steps after he’d cleared the bowl of cereal he’d abandoned up. 

He slots himself on the couch behind Wooseok, his knees fitting comfortably next to his shoulders. Wooseok wastes no time in getting to work, reminding himself not to get too lost in the feeling. If Seungyoun’s massage isn’t _ horrible_, that is. Wooseok still doesn’t trust him.

He hisses when Seungyoun’s hands first land on his shoulders, the coldness of his hands against his warm skin a deadly combination, but the hiss soon fades into a sigh. He isn’t sure if it’s just the fact that he’s experiencing a good feeling for the first time today, or Seungyoun is really _ that _ good with his hands—all he’s sure about is that the firmer and lower Seungyoun gets, the better he feels. He feels _ really good _ right now.

“Who knew you could be so good with those tiny hands?” Wooseok teases. Seungyoun pauses to flick the back of his head.

They fall into a comfortable silence with the hosts of the variety show playing on tv chattering away in the back, Wooseok working on his papers while he lets out occasional hums and sighs of appreciation. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so grateful for his best friend in his life. 

It’s Seungyoun who breaks the silence first, 10 minutes later. “How’s your back?”

“It hurts a little. It’s stiff. Didn’t move off that chair for hours.”

“Want me to do your back next?”

Wooseok doesn’t hesitate to take his offer up, climbing onto the couch and leaving his work on the floor. 10 minutes of relaxation won’t hurt. 

The couch is pretty small for the both of them, so there’s no obvious way for Wooseok to get comfortable. He sits cluelessly for a few seconds until Seungyoun pats his lap. “Come on, puppy.”

“Don’t call me that. If anything, I’m a cat.” Wooseok whines, but clambers over to lie on Seungyoun’s lap, his bare chest making contact with Seungyoun’s bare legs. He doesn’t feel uncomfortable—there’s not only an unmatchable level of mental closeness between them, but they’ve always been physically close, too, casually sharing cuddles and warmth whenever the other needs it. It’s one of the benefits of living together. 

“So you’re saying you want me to call you a kitten instead?” Seungyoun teases, grin evident in his tone.

“Neither.” Wooseok says, bluntly. 

Seungyoun laughs, making up for it with how his hands begin to knead at the top of Wooseok’s back. Wooseok practically shudders. Turns out his back _ really _ needed this.

Wooseok’s eyes close, completely forgetting about everything he’s stressed about, just for a moment. There’s not one single thought in his mind not related to how good he feels for a while. Not until Seungyoun’s hands go lower, and lower, until they reach a spot that must’ve been especially stiff, because Wooseok _ moans. _Straight up moans. 

His cheeks suddenly heat up when Seungyoun’s hands stop in their tracks, confirming that Seungyoun did in fact just hear that. That did in fact just happen. Wooseok does nothing. Decides to completely ignore that anything happened.

For a moment, he thinks he’s got away with it, but then Seungyoun starts to wiggle uncomfortably like there’s something bothering him. His hands don’t stop, but something about the way they’re moving changes, suddenly more gentle and less enthusiastic. Wooseok doesn’t say anything, just wiggles slightly too, trying to convey that he doesn’t want this to stop just yet without actually saying the words.

Seungyoun’s hands get even lower, practically almost dipping his fingers under the waistband of Wooseok’s slacks, but not quite. They hover like he's suddenly unsure what to do, unsure where to put his hands. Wooseok’s breath hitches. The tv goes quiet for a moment, and in that split second, Wooseok swears he hears Seungyoun _ gulp._

“What are you doing?” Wooseok whispers, so quiet he isn’t sure Seungyoun even heard him. His heart is beating faster than usual, for a reason he isn’t quite able to put his finger on.

Seungyoun pulls his hands away suddenly like Wooseok’s skin had burned him, and it makes Wooseok sit up. Seungyoun’s eyes are wide when they make eye contact, nervous, almost.

“I—”

In that moment, Wooseok realises 2 things; his chest and back feel really, _ really _ cold and empty without Seungyoun’s skin on them, despite it being the middle of summer, and Seungyoun looks _ really _ cute right now. He’s never thought Seungyoun was bad looking. There’s a reason why his best friend gets a lot of attention, whether it’s in the form of pieces of paper with numbers on or the stares of giggling students—Wooseok isn’t blind, has always known Seungyoun is cute. But right now, it just feels...different.

For some reason, he can’t seem to take his eyes off of him.

“What’s up with you?” Wooseok asks, trying to laugh off the weird tension in the air, but it comes out in a shaky voice. 

Seungyoun just swallows. “I’m going to do something. If you’re uncomfortable, tell me. Okay?”

“Wha—Okay.” 

“Okay,” Seungyoun repeats, nodding like he’s trying to convince himself to do whatever he’s trying to do. “Okay.”

Deep down, Wooseok knows what’s coming, though he acts clueless. Parts his lips before Seungyoun even parts his, tilts his head before Seungyoun tilts his. He still gasps when their mouths actually meet, Seungyoun leaning forward so enthusiastically that Wooseok falls back onto the couch before he can stop himself.

Seungyoun follows him, adjusting himself so that he’s crouched over Wooseok’s waist. He’s at the perfect angle to work Wooseok’s mouth with all the intensity he wants to, place his hands right where he wants to. Wooseok reacts to one of Seungyoun’s hands coming to cup his jaw with a whimper, the other hand clutching at his waist fueling him to bite at Seungyoun’s bottom lip. Seungyoun shudders, holding back the urge to whimper himself. 

There’s a voice in the back of Wooseok’s head telling him this should be wrong, this shouldn’t feel right, how did this happen, he should be _ worrying _ —but the only thing he finds himself worrying about as Seungyoun licks into his mouth while beginning to rock his hips just slightly, is the fact that Seungyoun has been in reach for years, _ clearly _ experiencing this with other people, yet Wooseok is only experiencing this now. He’s _ his _ best friend, doesn’t he deserve a taste?

Seungyoun stops kissing him for a moment and shoves his face in Wooseok’s neck, his overgrown hair tickling his cheek. It’s in this moment that Wooseok realises Seungyoun is even noisier than him, suddenly whimpering and moaning breathlessly as he focuses on rocking down into Wooseok’s crotch. His voice reaches new highs like this, incomparable to when he’s drunk and screeching exaggeratedly to whatever song comes on, incomparable to when he gets overly excited when talking about something he loves. It’s something Wooseok has never thought about but he wishes he had as the noise travels right down to his crotch. Maybe then his jerk off sessions would be more fun.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t got laid in a while.” Seungyoun says, voice desperate and broken. 

Wooseok shakes his head before realising Seungyoun can’t see him. He tries to halt his panting so he can respond, but the way his hips come up to meet Seungyoun’s as his movements begin to get more frantic distracts him, making him throw his head back with a broken moan instead. Seungyoun takes advantage of the new angle, licking and sucking at his neck while Wooseok raises one of his knees to Seungyoun’s crotch.

“Don’t,” Wooseok spits out. “Don’t be sorry, idiot. Does it look like I’m not enjoying it?”

Seungyoun laughs, a muffled vibration into Wooseok’s neck that becomes another moan at some point. “Can we switch?”

“Huh?”

“Like, turn over.” 

“Oh. Yeah. Whatever. Whatever’s good.”

It’s anything but smooth when they turn over on the small couch, but the moment of no contact is worth it when Seungyoun slots Wooseok above his thigh at the perfect angle for him to rock against it, his hands resting on his butt. “Oh, fuck.”

“Good?” Seungyoun asks.

“Stupid question. I’m gonna cum in these pants. I can’t cum in these pants.”

“You have another pair. Stop overthinking and get to it.”

Wooseok doesn’t need to be told twice—he lets himself get lost in the feeling of Seungyoun’s thigh brushing up against his cock, it twitching excitedly when Seungyoun pulls his head up by his hair to meet his mouth again, all tongue and plump lips and desperate noises mixed together. Wooseok cums with a cry that gets lost in Seungyoun’s mouth, hips shuddering, Seungyoun following shortly after at the sight and sound of Wooseok reaching his high. 

Wooseok collapses onto Seungyoun, Seungyoun’s own head lolling to the side. There’s silence, the tv having been turned off at some point—Wooseok doesn’t know when—, only the sound of panting as they both come down from their high filling the room.

It’s the perfect time for Wooseok to overthink, and that’s exactly what he does. He can’t stop himself—he’d just made out with his best friend of 12 years, _ got off _ with his best friend of 12 years. What else is he supposed to do?

As always, Seungyoun is the one to break the silence again. “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry this time, though. All Wooseok hears is satisfaction and a slight teasing edge to his tone. 

Wooseok sits up, sitting on the end of Seungyoun’s legs. Seungyoun looks absolutely spent. His hair is dishevelled, though Wooseok _ thinks _ he never actually touched it, eyes still hooded and mouth still parted while heavy breaths spill out of his lips. There’s an obvious wet patch at the front of his shorts, and it takes everything in Wooseok to _ not _get turned on again.

Well. This is a newfound attraction he has to deal with.

“You’re not sorry. You enjoyed that.” Wooseok argues, fighting the way the corner of his lips want to rise. All these hookups he’s been through, and the best of all was right here. In his _ home._ Who would’ve thought?

“No, I am—I did enjoy it, _ too much, _I don’t know where it came from, I just—heard that noise you made, and—”

“It really was that?” Wooseok asks, laughing. “That’s all it took? Are you sure you didn’t plan this?”

“Why would I?” Seungyoun says. “You’re my best friend. That’s not what best friends do.”

Though there’s no malice in his voice, the words make Wooseok’s lips go dry, a sudden reality check in the form of a simple sentence. Now that the buzz of the whole ordeal had disappeared, all he can think about is if things are going to change between them. Things had _already_ changed between them, from the moment Wooseok had parted his lips and invited Seungyoun in. Wooseok doesn’t want things to change.

There’s one other thing bothering him—the feeling of his soiled pants.

“I’m going to go change my pants, it feels disgusting.” He ignores Seungyoun’s best friend comment. 

Things aren’t awkward after that, much to Wooseok’s surprise. It’s mostly because they can’t afford to be awkward. They live together, eat together, work together, so whenever they fight, though it’s rare and never serious, it’s nothing short of torture. Mostly for Seungyoun. Not only is Wooseok the master of silent treatment, but seeing Seungyoun beg him to say something for a day straight is a form of entertainment for him.

Wooseok is evidently quieter than usual when Seungyoun wakes up 3 hours after him the next day, smiling at Seungyoun sheepishly from where he’s fixing his hair in the mirror of their bathroom instead of greeting him like usual.

“Good morning.” Seungyoun stops in the entrance of the bathroom, hair sticking up in all sorts of directions. There’s no sign of anything off in his voice or expression, so Wooseok lets himself relax.

“Morning, sleepyhead. Sleep well?”

“Are you teasing me for waking up at 2pm?”

“No,” Wooseok says, but Seungyoun tuts. “You couldn’t sleep?”

Seungyoun raises his eyebrows in a clueless expression and shakes his head. “Nope. Never slept better.”

Seungyoun walks away. Wooseok shrugs to himself. Maybe things won’t be so bad, after all.

Things take a turn for the 2nd time on Monday. Wooseok is walking down the hallway on the way to an empty classroom to get some papers done, most of the students already on their way home or to a nearby library to study, when he feels Seungyoun’s presence in the form of a hand tugging his own from behind.

He turns around, his shocked expression making Seungyoun laugh heartily. 

He decides, right there and then, that he understands why the students claim Seungyoun is their favourite teacher before he even _ talks_, sometimes. He’s wearing a denim shirt, one that’s usually unbuttoned at home but buttoned to the top at school, of course, hair parted prettily in the middle with glasses—without the lense, because Seungyoun’s _ that _ person—resting on his nose, and he looks delectable. He shouldn’t look that good in such a simple outfit.

Wooseok has seen him in this outfit before, though. Didn’t think anything of it besides, sure, he looks good, but after the other night, everything about him feels more intense.

“Are you hungry?” 

Is all Seungyoun says, but when Wooseok says yes, he grabs his hand firmly and runs down the corridor. 

“What are you doing?” Wooseok asks, voice full of suspicion and accusation.

Seungyoun opts to ignore him until they reach a closet hidden around the corner. He pulls a key out of his shirt pocket, opening the door and pulling Wooseok gently inside with ease.

“You cannot be serious. _ The Janitor’s Closet_. How cliche.”

It’s dark, but Wooseok can make out his grin clearly, smug as if he’s a mastermind for thinking of this. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t think we were doing this again.” Wooseok says timidly, but his hands find Seungyoun’s waist automatically, backing him against the wall. _ Damn, we make out once and suddenly I can’t control my hands. _

“But I’ve never felt so good in my life,” Seungyoun replies, a stupid, drunk-looking smile on his face as he looks down at Wooseok like he’s intoxicating. “What could go wrong?”

_ One of our friends could figure out what we’re doing. Things could get awkward. We could get fired. Our friendship could fall apart, all 12 years down the drain. We could_—

“Someone could come in at any second. Where’s the janitor?”

“I saw him leave, and no one else is going to come in.”

Wooseok sighs. There’s a pit of worry in his stomach, this time so aware of the things that _ could go wrong_, why they _ shouldn’t be doing this_, but it disappears when Seungyoun pouts and slides a hand under Wooseok’s sweater. He doesn’t hiss at the contact this time, instead he gets up on his tippy toes to connect their lips, slides a hand in Seungyoun’s hair and pulls. 

Seungyoun makes the most delicious sound Wooseok thinks he’s ever heard, and then all of his thoughts are replaced with _ Seungyoun, Seungyoun, Seungyoun._

He’d told himself mentally to kiss him only. Not because he didn’t want to do more, but because they’re in a _ janitor's closet, _at their _ job_. Maybe they could do more at home, he’d thought. They shouldn’t, but maybe.

That’s not how it went, though. Luckily, Wooseok hadn’t ended up with soiled pants this time—he came close, but pulled away entirely as soon as he felt the familiar tingle at the bottom of his stomach, refusing to let it happen when he can’t leave the school yet. Seungyoun, however, is on his way home, so there’s nothing stopping Wooseok sliding a hand down his pants, finishing him off with a mouth to his neck, breathlessly mouthing praises and compliments.

From then, it becomes a routine, mainly happening when either of them are feeling stressed or in need of a break. Maybe it could’ve been avoided if they didn’t live together, maybe it wouldn’t have happened _ at all _ if they didn’t live together, but Wooseok doesn’t regret their decision. Things with Seungyoun have always been so easy. There’s a special kind of comfort only Seungyoun can bring him, maybe due to them being friends for so long, and truthfully, Wooseok has never felt as content coming home as he does every night coming home to Seungyoun. 

He learns to forget about the cons and just revel in Seungyoun’s touch. 

Nothing else really changes for a while, but Wooseok notices as a few months go by and they explore more and more, learning just how the other likes to be pleasured until they know each other’s sensitive spots like the back of their hand, that Seungyoun begins to get more touchy. 

They’ve always been touchy, so the change is subtle, so subtle Wooseok could’ve missed it if the sudden extra skinship didn’t give him _ butterflies_. He tangles a hand in the back of his hair, brushing his fingers through it gently while they’re watching a movie one night. Rests his head on his shoulder when they’re on the train to visit some friends, without the intent to fall asleep like usual. Sticks his hand in Wooseok’s backpocket when they’re actually with their friends, Hangyul noticing as he walks past with a beer and giving Seungyoun a weird look (Seungyoun doesn’t meet his gaze. Just pretends he doesn’t notice Hangyul’s stare and doesn’t remove his hand). 

It’s okay, though. The butterflies scare him a little, but Wooseok doesn’t think too much about it. It’s okay, for now.

“That time you said you’ve never felt so good in your life. Was it true?”

Seungyoun pauses, watching Wooseok who’s sat on his lap in nothing but his boxers with an unreadable expression. Wooseok squirms at the attention, waiting impatiently for his answer.

“I never lie to you. That first time—I really have never felt anything like it. No past hookups or past relationships have turned me on that much.”

Wooseok smirks, his ego being boosted by infinity. The power of knowing he could do that to someone as great as Seungyoun, someone as _ attractive _ as him, was an unbeatable feeling. He’d also drank a little at the party he was at earlier, so that probably has something to do with it.

“And we didn’t even fuck.” Wooseok says, attaching his lips to Seungyoun’s jaw right after. He doesn’t know if it’s the drink, or the fact that Seungyoun’s playlist that’s playing from his phone at the bottom of the bed had progressed to a song more sultry, but tonight, Wooseok wants Seungyoun. Badly.

“You know what’s funny,” Seungyoun starts, letting his hands come up to Wooseok’s hair. Wooseok hums from where he’s kissing up and down Seungyoun’s jaw. “Now that I’ve touched you, I feel like it’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

And that gets Wooseok’s attention. He pulls away, just enough to look Seungyoun in the eye but still feel his breath against his lips. “Really?”

“You remember that time your ex broke up with you and you got all bitter and dressed up just to take a picture?”

Wooseok laughs. Seungyoun had complimented him nonstop that night, but Wooseok was upset over his ex, so he didn’t think anything of it other than Seungyoun being a good friend, trying to cheer him up. “Shut up. You didn’t feel anything back then.”

Seungyoun looks offended, eyes wide and lips slightly pouting. “How would you know? I can’t casually tell my best friend he’s the prettiest person I’ve ever seen in my life and I want to fuck him, can I?”

Wooseok wants to say something so badly, wants to grab Seungyoun’s jaw and demand him to fuck him, but they haven’t been there yet. He isn’t sure if Seungyoun wants to, so he holds back, slipping a hand down Seungyoun’s sweatpants instead.

“You could’ve. I wouldn’t have said no.”

Seungyoun whimpers, bucking up into Wooseok’s palm. “You can’t say that _ now."_

“I can,” Wooseok argues, leaning down to trace Seungyoun’s collar bones with his tongue. “Actually, I would’ve said no if you had that one haircut.”

“Hey. I cut it at 3am, I was going through something.”

“Then maybe I’d fuck you out of pity.” 

Seungyoun scoffs, pulling Wooseok’s hand out of his pants and grunting at the lack of contact like he wasn’t the one to do it. “Move back a bit.”

Wooseok does as he’s told, scooting back onto Seungyoun’s thighs rather than his crotch. Seungyoun holds his hips to lift him up, leaving him obediently hovering above while Seungyoun pulls both of their remaining items of clothing down. The sudden burst of air makes Seungyoun hiss, but Wooseok immediately wraps his hand around his cock, warming it up.

“Hold on, impatient.”

Wooseok shamelessly whines, settling himself back down on his thighs comfortably. Seungyoun rewards him by wrapping his hand around both of their cocks, Wooseok immediately throwing his head back in a moan.

“God, it drives me crazy thinking that I could’ve heard those noises so much earlier.”

Wooseok smirks, the mix of the praise, Seungyoun’s voice and the friction of their cocks sliding against each other in Seungyoun’s hand resulting in a feeling of pure ecstasy. 

They’re definitely on the same wavelength, he notes. Both somehow oblivious to the tension that has obviously been there since they were both old enough to feel that way. Maybe there wasn’t anything normal in the way Wooseok found himself unable to take his eyes off Seungyoun’s stomach whenever he showed him a new tattoo, or in the way his fingers would tingle after he’d sometimes reach out to touch them, just to see how they felt, after all. 

Maybe there wasn’t anything normal in the way Seungyoun would sometimes ask to cuddle in the middle of a hot summer’s night, or leave a kiss so small Wooseok probably shouldn’t have noticed on the top of his head when Wooseok was extra sleepy. 

Maybe there isn’t anything normal in the way Wooseok places his hand over Seungyoun’s, both of their hands now wrapped around their cocks, high moans and grunts mixing together when they meet each other’s lips once again. This isn’t what best friends do, right?

Wooseok shakes his head to bring himself back to reality before he loses himself in his mind again. He feels himself coming close already, but this isn’t how he wants it to go, so he pulls away.

“What are you doing?” Seungyoun asks breathlessly when he pulls his hand away, too. 

“I wanna blow you. Can I blow you?”

Seungyoun’s head lolls back at the thought, smacking a little aggressively against the headboard, and Wooseok takes that as a yes, sliding down to the bottom of the bed. He accidentally knocks Seungyoun’s phone off with his foot, but Seungyoun hurriedly stops him when he goes to pick it up.

“Leave it.”

“And you call me impatient.”

Maybe the thing that makes it so good, Wooseok thinks as he sinks his mouth down onto Seungyoun’s cock, his bottom half up to give Seungyoun a better view, is that both of them are _ extremely _ experienced. Wooseok knows everything about Seungyoun, and his sex life is no exception—they’d grown up together, realised they like boys together, experienced their first kiss with a boy after thinking it was wrong for them to do that for years together. Nothing was hidden between them.

Well, apart from the sexual tension that had apparently existed for a while already.

Wooseok internally thanks all of his past hookups and relationships for helping him perfect his skills and reduce his gag reflex as he pulls a bunch of noises he’d never heard before from Seungyoun’s lips. He doesn’t even have to try. He’s just having a good time, using his hands to touch what he can’t with his mouth, humming around his cock whenever he can after Seungyoun practically cries out when he does it the first time. 

He doesn’t pull away when Seungyoun reaches his climax, the hands desperately and messily tugging on his hair and noises coming from above fueling him as he ruts against the bed to reach his own.

“Come here.” Seungyoun says right after Wooseok cums, still breathing heavily.

Wooseok crawls back up the bed, an expression of pure contentment on his face. There’s a smile on Seungyoun’s face too as he kisses Wooseok again, tilting his head to deepen it and lick into his mouth once before pulling away.

“You think you can go again?”

“Sleepy.” Wooseok says, and while it’s half true, he’s mainly just trying to get Seungyoun to cuddle him. It works, Seungyoun muttering a soft “okay” before encouraging Wooseok to snuggle into his side, turning over to tuck the smaller’s head into his chest.

It should be gross, both of them cuddling on the bed that isn’t cleaned up after they’d both came, bodies a little sweaty and in need of a shower, but to Wooseok, it just feels easy. He feels peaceful and content (there’s a tingling in his heart and stomach that he doesn’t want to think about, though, so he doesn’t, Seungyoun erasing any negative thoughts that threaten to enter his mind with lips brushing his forehead and a small huff of a laugh).

There’s a knock on the classroom door at 4:10pm, just after Wooseok’s students had left. Well, most of them—Kang Minhee still hovers at the back of the class, distracted by something on his phone. Wooseok was about to remind him that it was already 4pm right before the door was knocked on.

He half expects it to be Seungyoun, his best friend being extra clingy recently, but the principal, Seungwoo, walks in when he calls for the person to come in.

Minhee looks up at the noise, quickly standing up and bowing when he sees who it is. “Sorry, I’ll be off.”

Seungwoo sends Minhee a kind smile as he hurries off as if just Seungwoo’s presence alone terrifies him. Wooseok can’t resist laughing, amused by his student’s reaction.

“What do you do to these poor kids?”

“Nothing!” Seungwoo insists. “I’m way kinder than their last principal. Maybe they’re scarred from her.” 

Wooseok snorts, standing up but still having to crane his neck to look up at Seungwoo. 

“Anyway, I came to ask you to come to dinner tonight. We usually have one right before we break up for summer, just to talk about our plans for next year, and things like that.” Seungwoo says.

“Tonight?” Wooseok asks. 

“Yes. Do you have something planned? I know this is short notice. I meant to ask everyone a few days ago but I got caught up with things.”

“No, it’s just that I would’ve bought something nice to wear if I’d have known.”

Seungwoo laughs. “You don’t have to wear anything special. All of the staff will be there, but it’s not a formal thing. Just don’t come in sweatpants and you’ll be good.”

Wooseok gasps, fake offended. “I’d never. Cho Seungyoun might, though.”

“Oh, that reminds me, could you ask him for me? It would save me time.” Seungwoo asks, an apologetic look on his face.

“Of course, that’s no bother,” Wooseok says. “Time and place?”

Seungyoun stands in front of the mirror in his room, frustrated. “What do I do? I want to make an impression, but not too much that it comes across as snobby. Wooseokie, help me.”

“You’ve been deciding for an hour already and you haven’t even picked a shirt.” Wooseok says dryly, coming to stand next to Seungyoun. 

“Art takes time,” Seungyoun says, staring at the shirts in his hands like they’re abnormal creatures. “Plain black or black with polka dots?”

“Polka dots.”

Seungyoun stays silent. Wooseok rests his head on his shoulder, albeit a little uncomfortably since he has to stand on his tippy toes to properly hook his chin, pressuring him by staring at him through their reflection.

Briefly, Wooseok notes that they look good together.

“Plain black?” Seungyoun questions.

“No. I say polka dots. And leave it unbuttoned. I mean, just the top one. Or maybe two.”

Seungyoun smirks at him through the mirror, seeing right through Wooseok’s words. He’s being self indulgent. “Why? This is still a teacher meeting, you know. I can’t go around like I usually do.”

“Who says? Leaving one unbuttoned won’t hurt.” Wooseok argues with a slight sulkiness in his tone. Seungyoun gives in (it _ definitely _wasn’t the pout, he swears).

“Okay. Move so I can get changed, then, baby.”

_ Baby. _

When Wooseok moves out of the way, he has to fall back onto the bed just incase his legs actually give way at Seungyoun calling him baby completely out of nowhere. 

It doesn’t shock Wooseok to find that Seungyoun knows everyone at the dinner. Wooseok had met all of them before, everyone introducing themselves when he’d first started his job, but Seungyoun _ knows _ them, talks to them like they’re all a close friend of his, where Wooseok only really talks to them like coworkers, bar a few he’s really clicked with. 

There’s only one teacher he doesn’t seem to know yet—a 2nd grade math teacher who’d recently started, just a few months before. Wooseok had talked to him a few times, and there was nothing wrong with the guy. In fact, Wooseok likes him a lot, thinks he’s one of the friendliest teachers out of all of them, but every time they talk, he’s..._ too _ friendly.

Wooseok hadn’t found the opportunity to tell him he isn’t interested, because the only thing that makes him feel that way is the amount of times he compliments him. He can’t respond to “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” with “Sorry, I’m not interested in dating right now”, or “Those pants look _ amazing _ on you” with “Thanks, but I don’t think of you like that”. Besides, Wooseok enjoys compliments. A lot. So it’s not all bad.

The level of clinginess Seungyoun reaches that night makes the usual clingy, day to day Seungyoun look distant. Wooseok realises, after Seungyoun suddenly puts his arm gently around his waist, pulling him closer to him when the new teacher stares for a little too long, that that’s probably the reason—he knows Wooseok isn’t interested in the guy, and wants to try and put him off for Wooseok. Wooseok appreciates it, sliding his arm around Seungyoun’s waist instead as a thank you later on.

But as the night goes on, everyone sitting around the table for hours, drinking and taking in all the information Seungwoo is giving them, the guy only seems to get more eager. Wooseok catches him staring multiple times while eating his food, looking away immediately once Wooseok looks back at him, and Wooseok almost feels bad. It’s an innocent crush, and it’s not that the guy is bad looking, but Wooseok really just isn’t interested in dating right now. Or something like that.

At 10pm they all decide to call it a night, heading outside. Some of them wait for cabs while the rest head to their cars. Wooseok hears his name being called on the way to Seungyoun’s car, turning towards the voice but not letting go of Seungyoun’s hand that had clutched onto his bigger one at some point.

Wooseok had known it was the new guy by the voice, but _ really _ hoped he was mistaken. He wasn’t. He puts on a fake smile.

“Hi! Is something up?” He asks, feeling Seungyoun’s hand squeeze a little tighter.

“Hey. Sorry, this is probably really weird but—are you guys dating? I’ll back off if that’s the case. I just need to know.”

Wow, straight to the point. Wooseok’s mouth falls open, cheeks heating up, hesitant for a split second before the words spill out without thinking too much. “No! No, we’re not dating.” 

Out of nervousness, he laughs. He probably looks like he’s lying, he thinks, but he’s not, is he? They’re not dating. Just holding hands. They’re best friends.

He doesn’t dare to turn to gauge Seungyoun’s reaction. It’s probably embarrassing for him. Maybe his cheeks are red too, just as caught off guard and surprised as Wooseok. He’s curious, but something is tugging at his chest, telling him not to look. 

“I’m not interested in dating right now, though. Sorry.” Wooseok says with an apologetic smile. He feels Seungyoun’s grip on his hand loosen a little, the taller being uncharacteristically quiet.

“That’s okay,” The guy sends a sad smile Wooseok’s way. “Cool. I just wanted to know. Have a good night, both of you.”

And then he’s gone. When Wooseok turns to Seungyoun, there’s a small smile on his face too, but it’s missing the glint of mischievousness it usually has, the glint that reminds Wooseok of a puppy right before it’s about to do something it knows it shouldn’t do.

“Sorry, I should’ve told him I wasn’t interested before.” 

“Why are you apologising to me?” Seungyoun asks, the smile not dropping from his face. It still looks odd, though. Forced, almost sad. Wooseok’s stomach turns. “He was kinda weird, though. He didn’t stop staring at you all night.”

Wooseok just hums in reply, swallowing to soothe his suddenly dry throat. He doesn’t know if it’s just him, but there’s a weird tension that he's never felt around Seungyoun before, and it’s so uncomfortable and unlike them that it makes his heart hurt. 

Seungyoun’s hand falls away when they reach the car. It had to happen for them to actually get into the car, but Wooseok’s hand feels way too empty, and he clenches and unclenches the air a few times.

When they’re settled in their seats, Seungyoun’s silent. He could just be tired, but Wooseok doesn’t think that’s the case—it’s only 10pm, and on the weekend, Seungyoun can stay up until 5, 6 in the morning. He has to physically force him to sleep, sometimes. 

“Everything okay?” He asks on the way home, after a few minutes of silence.

Seungyoun turns to look at him sharply like he was lost in his own thoughts and Wooseok’s voice had brought him back down to earth abruptly. He turns away to look at the road again. “Huh? Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re not, though,” Wooseok says, softly. “Your voice is shaky. You can’t hide things from me, Youn. We’ve been friends for _ 12 years_.” 

“Then what if I said I wanna fuck you?” 

“What?” Wooseok exclaims. “Your voice is shaky because you wanna fuck me.”

Seungyoun nods slowly, a smirk suddenly present on his face. Wooseok is torn between not believing him, the change too quick to be genuine, and giving in to the desire that immediately rushes through his body.

He narrows his eyes at Seungyoun, but the latter pays no attention, focusing on getting them home safely (it’s definitely for the best, but Wooseok still sulks a little at the lack of attention. He can’t help it).

“Then fuck me.”

“Don’t say that, Wooseokie. I’ll stop this car right here.”

“Then do it,” Wooseok challenges. “Just not right here, we’re literally in the middle of the highway. Unless you wanna die mid-fuck.”

To Wooseok’s surprise, Seungyoun accepts his challenge, pulling over in a secluded area in the parking lot of some store they pass by. It’s not ideal, clambering into the backseat in the dark (Seungyoun flicks a light on, at least), but as always, it doesn’t take a lot from Seungyoun to get Wooseok in the mood, so he doesn’t complain _ too much _ when he stubs his toe on something hard.

He never imagined or wanted it to be in _ Seungyoun’s car _ if they ever reached the point of fucking, but Wooseok has wanted it for so long that at this point, he really doesn’t care where it happens.

He’s also still not completely believing the whole “I’m upset because I want to fuck you” charade, but if Seungyoun wants to fuck Wooseok to forget about whatever’s bothering him, then Wooseok will gladly let him. That’s how they started the whole thing, after all. Whatever Wooseok can do to make Seungyoun feel better, even if just for a moment, that’s what he’ll do.

“This is way too small to be fucking in.” Wooseok says through a laugh as he lies down on the backseat uncomfortably, Seungyoun pulling both of their jeans down messily. 

“Your idea.”

“No it wasn’t,” Wooseok shoots back. “Wait, yeah it was.”

“Exactly.” Seungyoun leans down to connect their lips, full enthusiasm from the get go. So, this is how Seungyoun is during sex, Wooseok notes. Tonight isn’t going to go slow.

He isn’t complaining, though, almost immediately becoming a moaning mess, his cock soon hard when Seungyoun works his tongue around his mouth, chest, waist, wherever he can get to. 

Seungyoun places a hand on Wooseok’s waist, bringing the other up to his mouth. Wooseok doesn’t need to be asked—he grabs Seungyoun’s hand with his own and shoves them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around his fingers. Seungyoun curses above him, already sounding spent. Wooseok would tease him for how quickly he turns into a mess around him if he didn’t find it incredibly hot.

The position is too awkward to slide Wooseok’s t-shirt over his head, so when he pulls his fingers out, bringing them down between Wooseok’s already spread legs (as far as he can with the limited space), he uses his free hand to bring the end of his t-shirt up for Wooseok to hold in his mouth. 

Wooseok forces Seungyoun to unbutton his shirt, though, refusing to not be able to touch his tattoos. “Your tattoos are so hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t say yeah like that. You sound like a jerk.”

“I am a jerk.”

“You’re really not.” _ You’re the best person I’ve ever known. _

Wooseok really wishes his mouth could reach his tattoos right now, specifically the gun tattoo, but the most he can do is trace it with his fingers. Maybe he should suggest a chest tattoo, sometime. 

When he’s all prepped, back already getting stiff from lying on the narrow seats for too long, just the thought of Seungyoun being inside him gets him excited to the point that he could probably cum already. When he finally settles deep inside him, though, mouthing at his chest just to make it more intense, Wooseok practically ascends. He’s pretty sure he sees his soul physically leave the car through the window. 

Wooseok _ knew _ Seungyoun would make him feel amazing, but he couldn’t prepare for the rush of emotions that hits him. Couldn’t prepare for the way he feels when Seungyoun lifts his head after a while with _ tears _ in his eyes after a particularly hard thrust, looking like he feels everything _ but _ amazing. 

“Seungyoun,” Wooseok says worriedly, bringing his hands up to cup his face rather than scratch at his back. “Youn, what’s wrong?”

Seungyoun just shakes his head in response, a tear falling directly onto Wooseok’s chest when he lets his head fall again. He doesn’t stop fucking into him, and Wooseok hates that he’s fucking at the right angle to still make him feel so good that he has to moan, despite the pain he’s feeling seeing Seungyoun cry.

“Seungyoun, stop. Wait. Tell me what’s wrong. Don’t make me cry too. You’re supposed to make me _ cum, _not cry.”

Not even his attempt at a joke makes Seungyoun snap out of it. Wooseok can’t take it anymore, forcefully lifts Seungyoun’s head up to look him in the eye. He’s sobbing now, tears slipping out uncontrollably. Wooseok’s heart shatters. 

“Seungyoun, _ talk._” He demands, voice cracking at the last syllable.

“Can’t,” Seungyoun says. His voice is shaky, and Wooseok finds himself overcome with the urge to kiss him again, kiss away whatever’s bothering him just like Seungyoun does for him. “Let me make you feel good.”

“I don’t feel good while you’re crying like this.” The way Wooseok’s voice wobbles must ignite something in Seungyoun, because he connects their lips once again, sneaking a hand down between them to grasp at Wooseok’s cock. Wooseok gasps, unable to fight the pleasure as Seungyoun speeds up the pace.

“It’s okay. You can cum,” Seungyoun says in between kisses. “I just need you to feel good, because I love you. I love you so much. That’s all that should matter, but I’m selfish.”

Wooseok, for the first time in his life, cums at the same time that a tear drops from his eye. It’s a weird feeling he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to sum up. Seungyoun does shortly after, too, crying out in pleasure rather than pain. Wooseok’s never been so glad to hear Seungyoun moan. 

Seungyoun collapses on top of Wooseok, head buried in his chest, too exhausted to move.

“You love me,” Wooseok says through pants, reaching up to wipe Seungyoun’s tears away. “Don’t tell me that’s why you’re crying.”

“I’m crying because I shouldn’t. It’s just sex, right? It shouldn’t mean anything. I knew that from the moment I kissed you.”

A sharp pain hits Wooseok’s chest, not only because of Seungyoun’s words, but because of the state of realisation he enters. When he thinks about it, has he ever _ not _loved Seungyoun?

“We’re also living together. We’re also best friends, we’ve also spent our entire lives together,” Wooseok sniffles. “We’re also lying here crying in the back of your car because we love each other.”

Seungyoun’s eyes widen. “Who’s _ we?” _

Wooseok rolls his eyes. “Oh my god, Seungyoun. Is it inappropriate for me to slap you right now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care,” Seungyoun says, sitting up. The sadness in his voice from before is replaced with joy, the glint returning to his smile. “You love me?”

“I can’t remember not being in love with you. I don’t know how I didn’t realise before. I thought I was smart, but I think I’m actually stupid.”

Seungyoun smiles his full smile, bunny teeth on full show and eyes in full crescents. “I realised before you, right? Therefore you’re the stupid one.”

“Sure,” Wooseok says. He’s too overwhelmed to argue. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so emotionally and physically overwhelmed and exhausted in his life. “But in my defense, I think I really did just get too used to loving you to realise what that actually meant.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Seungyoun leans down to kiss Wooseok much slower this time, much more intimate—at least that’s what it feels like to Wooseok, but maybe it’s because he knows what the weird feeling he gets in his stomach every time they kiss means, now.

3 months have already passed when Wooseok finally gets the courage to make the dreaded call. His mum picks up straight away, ecstatic at the opportunity to talk to her son (even though they’d talked just a few days before).

“Hey, mum,” Wooseok mutters, trying his best to hide his nerves. “How’s life?”

Seungyoun is sitting opposite him on the bed, sending him hand signals and exaggerated facial expressions to let him know when he’s not being natural. Judging by his current expression, Wooseok isn’t off to a good start.

“Hi, baby. What’s up with you? You’ve never said those words in your life.”

Wooseok buries his head in his hands, ignoring Seungyoun laughing silently but heartily. He didn’t even get through _ one sentence _naturally. “Uh. I have something to tell you, actually.”

“Hm? You know you can tell me anything.”

“You remember Seungyoun?”

“...The guy who spent half of his life at our house and is now living with you. Of course.”

Seungyoun laughs harder, and Wooseok throws a sock at him, mouthing “I’m trying my best”.

“We’re dating.” Wooseok blurts out, screwing his eyes shut. Really, he isn’t even sure why he’s so nervous. It’s probably the thought that his mum could’ve possibly realised his feelings for Seungyoun before him, because _ that’s _ how oblivious he was.

There’s silence on the other end. Even Seungyoun is waiting nervously at this point, leaning closer to the phone. 

“Sweetie...I thought you were already dating.”

Seungyoun’s laugh isn’t silent this time—in fact, Seungyoun laughs harder than he’s ever laughed before.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3


End file.
